Of Songs and Sirens
by wellwithmysoul
Summary: 50 years after his death, James Norrington gets a second chance at life.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Fifty years is a long time, a lifetime for many – unless you find yourself faced with eternity, as James Norrington did.

Fifty years aboard the Dutchmen serving under the admirable William Turner - that was the offer the Goddess Calypso made with Norrington as he drifted through the mist in his solitary longboat, heading for whatever end awaited him.

However, she was quite blatantly breaking the rules for him, at the end of said time he must promise her a favor, a debt to pay.

When questioned why, why choose him, the Goddess merely smiled, caressed his face and said

"Him heart be broken, but 'tis a heart wit' more destiny writ' in it."

So James Norrington sailed under the command of a not so common blacksmith for fifty years - years he measured by fleeting glances of Elizabeth. The first ten, she met William on the rocky beach, a tow headed boy clutching tightly at her hand.

At twenty, the boy was grown, strapping and handsome, a girl by his side with a baby in her arms. Holding Elizabeth's hands were a boy and girl – ten-year-old twins.

Thirty; Elizabeth was surrounded by grandchildren and she had grown much older but every bit as graceful and beautiful as he remembered.

Forty years and great grandchildren joined them on the beach.

Fifty years, the many Turners set her adrift in a small longboat of her own, white hibiscus covering her from head to toe. Her family wept on the beach while her husband rejoiced, embracing his Elizabeth, blushing as a new bride, upon the deck of the Flying Dutchmen.

As Elizabeth stepped aboard the ship and into her lover's arms, James couldn't help but feel the pang of jealousy in the pieces of his heart. Fifty years did nothing to abate the feelings he harbored for his captain's love, but it did everything to commit himself to William as a comrade and commander. He smiled with genuine joy for William and Elizabeth as he watched them embrace.

"James." A single syllable whispered in his ear and he turned. Behind him stood Calypso, translucently pale skinned and white haired with eyes as black the bottom of the sea– her appearance was altered but everyone on board knew it was she.

"It is time for your redemption, James Norrington." She spoke boldly, pronouncing her words in a sound proclamation.

"James?" Elizabeth said, worry etching her lovely face. Will held her back, shaking his head knowingly. He nodded at James.

"Fair winds, my friend." He said.

The Goddess touched James between his green eyes, and he felt himself falling… falling… deep into the depths of the ocean….

And thus his new destiny begins.

Reviews:Me::Rum:Captain Sparrow


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews!

All OC's are litmus test approved, so fear no Mary Sue's. Although one might say Elizabeth Swann is the greatest MarySue of all... Also, I don't own anything to do with pirates and I'm not profiting off this FF in any way!

The first thing James noticed was the taste of salt. Having been without taste for the last fifty years, it was a mighty and powerful flavor upon his tongue. Next, he became quite aware that he was floating, moving to and fro in the warm gentle waves with the muffled sounds of movement in the water in his ears. He opened his eyes and looked about – finding himself sitting on the sandy ocean floor, just beyond a colorful reef, with just enough light filtering through the crystal water above him to see his surroundings. A brilliant red spotted grouper swam by, regarding him rather curiously with large eyes. For a moment James drifted, contemplating and remembering what life felt like, when a sudden pain in his chest reminded him he should probably breathe, and very soon.

Before he could bring his arms up to swim to the surface, a pair of strong arms wrapped around his chest from behind and he felt himself being pulled upwards. He let his rescuer pull him roughly over the reef and up upon the black sand beach, finding himself unable to move much as one would after being dead for fifty years - his limbs felt so heavy with the weight of blood and bone. The intense brightness of daybreak burned his eyes and he brought up a hand sluggishly to shield them. Next to him his rescuer coughed and panted from exertion. James looked down at the rapid rise of his chest beneath his navy coat and realized he was breathing heavily too…. That he was breathing at all. A mad sort of giggle escaped his lips.

"I'm glad to find you so amused, sailor!" A voice spoke to his left. Still shielding his eyes, he turned his head, squinting to see a pair of clear, near-black eyes peering down at him. A goofy smile spread across his lips, unable to control the laughter that bubbled up inside him. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of the sun upon his drying skin and the coolness of the morning breeze drifting over the bay, spreading his fingers his wiggled them down into the black sand at his sides. The gentle sea brushed alluringly against his legs. He felt his strength returning to him with the rays of the sun and he sat up on his elbows, laughing.

"I'm alive!" He cried, kicking his feet against the waves. He heard a snort next to him.

"And no thanks for it." He turned his smiling eyes to the fellow that rescued him. A freckle faced boy sat on his knees, eyebrows raised, regarding James as he might a talking fish or mermaid that just washed ashore. At least, James thought it was a boy, for his chestnut hair was short and stuck out in all directions, a bit of spiny brown seaweed stuck in it. Further inspection, however, proved it was not a boy, but most definitely a young woman wearing a sleeveless linen shirt and sailing trousers.

"Can you stand?" She said, moving to her feet and offering him a hand.

"With pleasure." He took her offered hand and hauled to his feet, stumbling, feeling very lightheaded. He towered over her like a giant tree about to be felled and she moved underneath him to steady his feet. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

"You are quite strapping for a girl!" He laughed, relishing the feel of a solid body against his as another confirmation of life. She rolled her eyes at him and slipped out from his arm, holding her hands against his chest to keep him steady. He returned the favor by reaching out and wrapping his arms tightly around her in a smothering hug. She uttered a muffled cry into his chest and pushed him back.

"Come off it mate!" Black eyes flashed beneath heavy lashes as she glared up at him haughtily. "What are you, mad?" She jeered.

"Maybe I am a bit mad." He laughed. "Or perhaps I am dreaming? For if you are real then I must surely thank Calypso for my good fortune." James chortled, swaggering, feeling as though he had drunk a bit too much rum.

Her eyes widened a bit at his comment and she crossed her arms over her breast. She held her temper though and shook her head. "Too much salt and sun for you, sailor. Do you have a name?" She said coolly, putting some distance between them.

"Mr. James Norrington, my lady." He said, bowing at the waist towards her, causing him to miss the sharp look she gave him upon hearing his name. "And might I inquire as to yours?" She snorted a laugh again at him and uncrossed her arms, walking away as she spoke.

"I'd say it's far too late to stand on propriety Jim." She shook her head. "Just Sarah will do. Come with me and we'll get you out of those wet blues. Then maybe you can explain to me why you were taking tea at the bottom of the reef so early in the morning."

She stooped down to pick up a net containing several large conch shells and some blue crabs, hauling the heavy thing over her shoulder.

"Here, let me help you." James said, coming up beside her. She waved him off and trudged her way through the wet sand. James stood for a moment to take in the scenery – the brilliance of the calm sea and the wisps of clouds drifting above. Beyond the beach grew thick jungle, leading up to a steep cliff face where gulls nested. His eyes drifted up the face and rested on a grand house atop it, it's white pillars shining in the sun.

"Coming?" Sarah called his attention back to where she stood on a path at the jungle's edge.

He studied her as they walked in silence, comparing her to whom he compared every woman. Where Elizabeth was tall and graceful, Sarah was short with a strong, lithe figure. Her broad, freckled shoulders paired with heaviness across her hips and thighs as well as bare feet told of a life far from the proper society that raised him; he assumed straight away she must be a servant girl belonging to the household above.

Thoughts came rushing in, sobering him from the intoxicating delight he found at the beach and bringing him back to character. He was alive, but at what cost? Calypso was not a force to be taken lightly. What did she have to gain from him return? Where was he and why did she choose to bring him here? As they neared the house, huffing with exertion of the steep climb, James thought he might have found the answer.

Below them in the interior of the island were fields of crops, dark bodies weaving about their work there. Surrounding the mansion was a large wall carved from the volcanic stone and inscribed on the rock pillar at the gates of the house was the name "Turner."

The entered through the kitchen and Sarah tossed the net into a deep sink. "Fannie!" She called brusquely. "We have company!" From the hallway in bustled an older, plump woman with fiery orange hair.

"Wha's all this?" The older woman said as she came in, speaking with a heavy Irish accent. She stopped when her eyes landed on James in the doorway. "Gracious!" She held her hand to her ample bosom in surprise.

"This is James Norrington, Fannie." Sarah said, washing her hands in the basin. "Draw him a bath and see he gets settled in. Mattew's old clothes should fit him I think. Then find Jonsie and tell him I have conch and crab if he can stew them, I'm sure Mr. Norrington is famished." She stole a passing glance to James as she left the kitchen; he was watching her with surprise.

"Y' never know what the Misses will catch when she goes out to sea." Fannie said, eyeing James up and down appreciatively. "Come along then, Mr. Norrington." She said, holding her skirts and heading for the door before she stopped and turned back to him. "Best take those sandy shoes off here, sir, if you don't mind it. Wouldn't want to ruin the lady's carpets." James did as he was told, noticing his stockings hung about his legs ripped and torn. For the first time he wondered what the rest of him must look like.

"Is Ms. Turner the lady of the house?" He inquired as she heated water for his bath.

"The Mr. and Mrs. Turners are deceased these seven years, God rest them. 'Twas the fever that took 'em like so many good one's before, along with their son Matthew. A big strapping lad, he was, much like yourself." Fannie said as she stoked the fire. "Tis just Miss Sarah left to take care of us all. She's no husband, and at six and twenty she is still very much a catch herself, make no mistake! She be a bit rough about the edges, but so's a diamond, as they say."

James colored slightly at his improper behavior on the beach, made worse by her position and maturity. Fannie cast a knowing glance to James, who sat on a stool near the giant copper tub, stripping off his ruined tights and discarding his heavy woolen jacket. "Tell me Mr. Norrington, have you a wife where you call home?"

Unwillingly his mind flashed on Elizabeth, but he quickly shook that thought away. James couldn't help but smile inwardly at how quickly the woman's wheels were turning. For all she knew, he could be a traitor or mutineer. "No ma'am, I have not been so blessed."

She nodded happily as she finished filling the bath with steaming water and set down fresh towels next to James along with a very nice shaving kit, soap flakes and looking glass.

"There'll be clothes laid out for you in the next room over Mr. Norrington. Take your time, there's no rushing about here. I'll go fetch Jonsie to start your meal and you can take yourself back to the kitchen when you are finished." With that she bustled out, leaving James in silence. He finished undressing and slid gingerly in the steaming water, another bubble of laughter escaping his lips. He took the soap and the dried sponge and began to scrub away the dirt and grime of his past.

James stepped into the kitchen feeling, looking and smelling like a new man. The dark breeches and boots fit snugly, as well as the crisp white shirt and vest. He tied his hair loosely with a ribbon and trimmed his short beard to perfection. A broad shouldered, shirtless black man with gray hair eyed him warily from the bubbling black kettle he stirred. The smell drifting from the pot made James' mouth water and his stomach leap.

"Feeling better?" A striking, slender black woman was setting out a plate of cheese and fruit along with a glass of some delicious looking juice. She smiled at him. "Don't mind my father, he's a suspicious old goat but a wonderful cook. The name's Anna." James returned her smile and bowed.

"James." He said "And yes I am, thank you." Anna motioned for him to take a seat, which he did, eyeing the food hungrily. She took his bowl and filled it with creamy, seafood stew full of potatoes and carrots.

"Help yourself to as much as you want, Mr. James." She said her voice tinged with a faint French accent. "There's plenty more and I know what a powerful hunger the sea can give you. I'll go along and tend to Miss Sarah if you don't mind. She'll want you to meet her out on the veranda when you are finished."

James did indeed eat up, four bowls of soup and a pitcher of juice later he finally felt satisfied. He nodded his appreciation to the cook, who sat outside smoking a pipe, watching him with sharp eyes.

"Such a man Miss Sarah!" Anna exclaimed as she entered her lady's chamber.

"Hush! He'll hear you!" Sarah hissed, turning back to the looking glass in front of her and jerking a comb roughly through her dark hair. Fannie came in behind her carrying hot water and brushes.

"Did you see those eyes? Green as the ceynote* they were!" Fannie whispered, taking the comb from Sarah and sitting the girl down at the vanity.

"His eyes were not lost on me." Sarah said flatly.

"And that uniform, I've never seen one so fancy, with so much gold braid! He must at the very least be a captain? Do you think his crew mutinied against him? Or maybe he's been fighting pirates and 'twas lost at sea?" Fannie's imagination tended to run wild.

"Somehow I don't think so Fannie." Sarah gazed solemnly in the looking glass, scrutinizing her own reflection. It had been so long since she'd even cared to look in her mirror it was coated with a thick layer of dust, which she wiped away with her silk handkerchief.

"Well he's single for sure, said so himself." Fannie winked. Sarah's eyes widened and she blushed deeply.

"Lord help us, you two are like gulls and he's a tasty fish just washed ashore." She buried her head in her hands. Anne let out a deep laugh as she shook out a simple blue calico dress.

"Let's hope this one still fits, I can't remember the last time I saw you in it. No use wasting it for the likes of merchants and pirates - but for a Navy man!" She nodded sagely as she pulled the dress over Sarah's head and began lacing up the back.

Fannie busied herself untying the bands of braided leather and shell from Sarah's wrists, scrubbing furiously at her dirty fingernails and pulling the rings off her thumbs.

"I'll not be bothered with stockings Anna, the man's seen me nearly naked already what difference do my ankles make?" Sarah said grimly.

"Tis such a shame you cut off your hair!" Anne cried. "It was so lovely."

"Lovely but for the head lice." Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Oh pish posh, all your sea bathing takes care of that and you know it." Fannie retorted, pushing up on Sarah's bosoms with her hands - which were quickly swatted away.

"We can't all be Queens of the Caribbean like you Anna." Sarah teased, making a face at her friend.

"True enough." Anna agreed, hugging her neck from behind. "But I don't know anyone with such fine eyes as yours, luv."

"Yes, now go put those eyes to work!" Fannie said, kissing her cheek.

After lunch, the ever-silent Jonsie led James to the back of the house where a palm thatched veranda sat atop the hill overlooking a lovely view of the valley below. The island was large and stretched out to the south, volcanic, James concluded due to the black sand and fertile soil. Below the house were fields and fields where black skinned bodies moved about, farming their crops. Their beautiful song drifted up to meet his ears.

"They are not slaves." A voice spoke softly behind him. He turned from one view to find another, Sarah, watching at him apprehensively, looking very feminine in blue calico with her hands clasped behind her back, a blue ribbon in her hair. James wondered how he ever mistook her for a boy.

"Beg pardon?" He said. She came up to stand next to him at the rail, regarding the fields below.

"They are not slaves, everyone here is a free man."

James cleared his throat and bowed slightly. "Miss Sarah, I must apologize for my entirely inappropriate behavior this morning. I …I have no excuse for it."

He thought perhaps the corner of her serious mouth ticked up a bit in a smile, but quickly vanished. "Turner Island is a vital part of the merchant trade here in the Caribbean… but we don't often see Navy men." She turned her dark eyes to James. "So tell me, how did you come to be floating in my lagoon on a calm, clear morning such as this?"

Afternoon coffee, being the best coffee he had ever tasted, was served and cleared before James finished his tale. Even in times like these, James Norrington believed nothing could be better rewarded than truth and for once, he was right. Sarah remained silent for a while once he finished. He watched her as her eyes lingered on the gulls floating above the sea. There was not much expression to be read upon her freckled face. James found himself wondering whom she favored more; Will or Elizabeth, for there was something wholly familiar about her face.

"You should count yourself lucky, Jim." She finally spoke, not turning her eyes from the gulls. "There aren't many who would believe a tale like that one. However… yours is a tale that has been handed down four generations of Turners." Her eyes met his, fiery, belying her soft tone. She leaned towards him as she spoke. "I am well acquainted with the characters of your past, especially of Calypso. I can't help but wonder… what curse follows you to my island, James Norrington?"

James frowned, his mouth pressing into a fine line as he considered her question. "I can't tell you anything to put your mind at ease." He finally confessed. "I've no idea why Calypso brought me here and if you request it of me I will not stay."

Sarah sat back in her chair, tilting her head and looking down her nose at him. Finally after considering him for a moment she spoke, "I expect you aboard the next merchant ship sailing out of here, Jim. Nothing personal, but I've got a responsibility to the people of this island." She leaned towards him again. "I saw the green flash on the horizon this morning and I felt it in my bones as a bad omen."

She stood up then, motioning for James to follow. "While you're here I expect you to work for your keep. There's none of us high and mighty here,_ Commodore_." Her tone and manner were both soft, but her words and casted glances were serious. She led him to the edge of the veranda, which served also as a lookout.

"Turner Island was founded by Will's second son, Mathias. It is a volcanic island as I'm sure you've noticed, a veritable stronghold, tall mountains and cliff faces surrounding most of the island. We are also mostly ringed by a shallow reef that stretches out in most places over half a kilometer." She gestured out with her hands; he noticed the pale skin around her wrists and remembered earlier they were covered with leather straps. He wondered at the change in her from this morning and supposed it had all been for him. Funny, she spoke with such confidence but her apprehensive manner and actions spoke oppositely.

James realized she was no longer talking and met her gaze; she was looking at him curiously.

"Are you listening now?" She said, with maybe a hint of annoyance and the tiniest of smiles. She pointed below them at the bottom of the mountain, where a small port town was situated at the edge of the blue water. "As you can see, our port is our only weakness, and it is also our lifeline. This island is not immune to attacks, particularly by the Spanish and American privateers who have no love for the Royals." She turned to James, shrewd and cunning. "We are short on men here Jim, as you could probably guess by talking to Fannie. There is not much here for them and most answer the call of the sea. While you are here, I should like for you to make yourself useful by preparing us for an attack. We have a small armory and I'm sure you noticed the battlements at the gates of the house and the single cannon. There's none of us left anymore who even know how to use the thing." She confessed.

"When was the last time you were invaded?" James said, his military mind already fast at work.

"Four seasons ago, and I've been looking for their return these last few weeks as the time and tide seem right." Sarah said.

"How did you defend yourself then?"

"We didn't. We hid here at this house and watched them burn and pillage. The only thing that saved us was a surprising and unusual storm that blew in from the east. Pirates being a suspicious lot took it as a bad sign, gathered what they had and scurried away."

"And you're certain their greed will overcome their superstation soon enough." James finished.

Sarah nodded and turned to him, observing his straight stance, hands crossed behind his back as though he were commandeering behind the helm. She leaned against the rail and couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Are you up for the job, Sailor?" She teased. "After all, just earlier this morning you were dead."

James felt taken back by the glimpse of her smile, the way it warmed her features and dark eyes. He returned her smile with a little nod of his head and said, "I shall do my best, my lady."

"We'll begin tomorrow. You are free to do as you wish this afternoon."

"I think I should like to stay right here." James said, sitting back down in the cushioned chair looking out over the view.

Sarah watched him for a moment fidgeting, then began to walk away but turned back again. "You may as well stay in my house." She looked past him as she spoke. "There's plenty of room, and I won't have you be a burden on anyone else." She said curtly, then with a swirl of her skirt she walked back towards the house. James' eyes followed her and he observed her bare feet and legs with a smile.

*A ceynote is a freshwater sinkhole. They are really beautiful and kind of a blue-ish green color. You can dive in them, if you ever get a chance it's awesome!

*Jim is a very informal nickname for James. I think it would really irritate him to be called that


End file.
